


As night grows older, love grows stronger

by Lokisbur



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: I tend to die like a redshirt, M/M, No Beta, They've been pining for a long time, it's soft (kinda), let's say it just doesn't have angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:42:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27179416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokisbur/pseuds/Lokisbur
Summary: During festivities, Garak and Bashir finally go "out" together. It was more of a Julian mopping around that he had no one to go with and Garak HAD to oblige.
Relationships: Garashir, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	As night grows older, love grows stronger

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I wrote that stuff, but as usual I have no idea what I did. So yeah hum,,,,, I hope you'll enjoy? Also I don't have any idea for a next chapter at the moment, so if it inspire anyone you can link your work with mine. If I DO have an idea, I will write it. Maybe.
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated!

Julian put his hand onto Garak's arm. The usually dim light of the station was now more orange, almost giving the impression of a sunset, if the lights weren’t coming from everywhere around them. It slided on Bashir’s face, complimenting his cheekbones and smile.

"Come on, it's a nice song." he said, pleadingly looking at the cardassian. “Come dance with me”

The person in question looked at the dancefloor with worry. He never danced before, and even if he started now with a person he knew he could trust, he still wasn't quite comfortable with that. Also, there were quite a lot of people around them.

"I am not sure, doctor, I do not know how to move in your human dances." 

"Then just follow my lead." proposed the doctor. "I assure you it will be fine." 

Garak wasn't so sure, and if it wasn't for that soft smile Julian made, one that he only made for him, he would've refused. But he didn't and he let himself be pulled into the crowd and onto the "dancefloor", as humans said. 

As they found themselves in the middle of the crowd, Bashir shifted his hand from the arm to the grey hand and softly settled it in his palm. Garak skin was colder than his, but despite the scales it was really soft to the touch. 

"I'll lead okay?"

The cardassian nodded softly, he had no idea of what was about to happen and tried not to be too tense. 

"Put your arm on mine." the doctor added. 

He did as he was told. The human was warmer than him and he could feel the difference of temperature even through the fabric. It was quite soothing, if only he could snuggle in this warmth. 

He shook the thought away, now wasn't the time, he had to focus on what was happening, like the hand that settled on his side. The hand,,, on his side? What was he doing? 

"Sorry, too low? Is there some places I shouldn't touch?" asked Bashir, removing his hand quickly and looking concerned. 

“No, no, it’s alright.” quickly replied Garak. “I just wasn’t...expecting it.”

The doctor looked at him for a second then replaced his hand slightly higher, but now it only seemed as the hand wasn’t really here, more like a phantom, a remembrance of it, and it suited Garak. He wasn’t quite the kind to let people touch him, even Bashir - that he had grown quite fond of - was sometimes too much.

The doctor started to move suddenly, forcing the cardassian to follow if he wanted to avoid stepping on his dance partner’s feet. After a few steps, his movements became more fluid, letting himself be capable of matching Bashir’s dance. It had quite a lot of turns and was quite energetic, but considering the man’s face, it was worth the slight dizziness. They turned and spinned and swam between the rest of the dancers for a few minutes, until the dance ended and everyone stopped, more or less breathless.

He was expecting another music to start, but instead it stopped in order to let the people “rest”, leading him to take a look at his dear doctor to see if he too needed a rest, mostly because he himself needed one. But it was only to be greeted with one of the brightest smiles ever, and he knew what those smiles meant, coming from the person beaming in front of him.

“Dear Doctor, do not tell me you are ready to dance  _ again. _ ” supplied Garak. “I'm afraid I’m somewhat too old to continue this kind of action.”

“Oh no, don’t worry I’m more than fine.” he smiled. “I’m just really happy you accepted to dance.” 

He moved toward their table.

“I’m also proud that you managed to follow my steps! I’m known to be doing too much over the steps, even if I follow the rhythm to perfection. So yeah, I’m  _ really _ happy we danced.”

Garak saw the doctor look absently at his glass, putting his hand onto the table.

He finally added. “I’m happy  _ we _ danced  _ together _ .” 

Garak let out a small smile. He too was happy to have partake into this human practice, one that showed him one of those many talents his dear doctor had. He put his own hand on the table, near enough the other to look like an approche move, but far enough to not seem rude or inappropriate. They stayed like that for some time, just sitting, almost side by side, each other's hands close enough to touch, if only they extended their little fingers. 

No one knew how long they stayed like that, but at the moment Bashir started to doze off, even if it was just a smidge, Garak decided it was time to put the good doctor in bed. He knew how much he worked, and he couldn’t believe how, in so many centuries this race has lived, they never thought about how tiring medicine could be and how inefficace it was to promote the idea of “long shifts equals better doctors”.

“Dear doctor,” started the spy, “I do believe that you should go rest, the night isn’t as young now, neither are you.” And he quickly added “NOT that it is bad to not be young anymore, you know that cardassians find a huge value in older age.”

He shifted slightly, not sure that what he had said was alright. But once again, Bashir softly smiled at him.

“Alright, alright.” He said. “I’ll go rest. And, I wouldn’t mind your company on the way here, if of course, you don’t mind accompanying me.”

Garak found himself smiling, not that it never happened, more that he wasn’t used to smile in such a genuine way.

“I’ll be delighted, my dear Julian.”

They both stood up and left the place, somehow walking at the exact same pace, moving the same leg at the same time - totally synchronized.

“Garak?”

Julian was standing right in front of his door but didn’t open it. The lower light of the corridor made it difficult to see exactly what his face was showing, even for a cardassian.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Well sure, my dear-”

“Did you enjoy the dance?”

The man turned toward him, a childish look of worry on his face. It took Garak aback.

“Julian…” started the cardassian, reaching for his arm. “Of  _ course  _ I enjoyed it. You’re quite a dancer.”

The man smiled at the confirmation and took his hand in his.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Awkwardly enough, he stepped towards Garak.

“Elim…. thanks.”

He then proceeded to push his lips on Elim’s, kissing him shyly, but with enough strength as to show exactly the meaning of it.

Quickly he broke it, maybe ashamed of his behaviour, and retreated in his quarters, letting out a small and quick “‘Night”.

Garak stood here for a few seconds, shocked. He clearly wasn’t expecting it. He touched his lips, still disoriented. Did Julian just called him  _ Elim _ ? Did he just  _ kissed  _ him? 

It was on those thoughts that the cardassian came back to his quarters, sure that they will occupy most of his night.


End file.
